We’re incredibly fortunate to know anything at all about the Ubykh language. In the 1800s, tens of thousands of people spoke it along the Black Sea coast. When Russia took over the region, the Ubykh people resisted until they were forced into exile in the Ottoman Empire. Carried thousands of miles by a traumatized community now scattered across Turkey, Ubykh survived until 1992, when its last fluent speaker died. It was one of at least 244 languages that have gone extinct since 1950, and soon—unless something changes—my grandmother’s language will join them.
Over the next 40 years, language loss is expected to triple if nothing is done. Yet we hear about endangered languages far less often than we hear about other painful losses to our planet’s diversity or history. Deforestation in Costa Rica is being reversed after people realized the enormous natural and scientific resource that could disappear with the trees. International archaeologists worked to preserve and restore ancient remains in Syria after the destruction caused by Islamic State. But the efforts of those working to document or preserve minority languages are rarely celebrated.
The databases that do exist, like Ethnologue, show the incredible cultural wealth found in over 7,000 known living languages. But a staggering 44% of these are now considered endangered, many with fewer than 1,000 speakers left. The idea that one nation speaks one language—like France speaking French or China speaking Mandarin—makes us overlook the dozens or even hundreds of regional languages. Many of their speakers have faced everything from active persecution to bans in schools to simply feeling ashamed for speaking their mother tongue.
Some communities are lucky enough to have the political or cultural freedom to protect their languages—think of Welsh or Māori—but many are not so fortunate. Some mourn and fight back; others accept the decline, not because they’ve chosen to give up a language, but because keeping it alive in the face of a more dominant one takes enormous effort and resources.
Often, it’s linguists who are on the front lines—people like Georges Dumézil, who tirelessly searched for Ubykh, a rumored Caucasian language with an incredible number of distinct sounds. After decades of searching, he finally found Tevfik Esenç, who was raised by Ubykh-speaking grandparents. Their partnership is how we know that Ubykh has more than 80 consonants and only three vowels—a ratio that places it at the very edge of language evolution and adds an important piece to our understanding of the sheer variety of human communication.
The study of endangered languages often reveals that Indigenous peoples identified and classified plants and animals—from tubers to species of dolphin—long before Western science encountered them. Many have extensive vocabularies tied to traditional practices that are also at risk. In some cases, linguists have arrived just in time to record these, interviewing elders before they pass away.
Documenting languages is important, not least because it means communities can better revive them if they eventually choose to. In my broader work on linguicide—the deliberate erasure of a language—it’s clear that language rights and human rights often go hand in hand. The displacement and disempowerment of Indigenous people across the United States happened alongside the loss of a dizzying variety of languages. Efforts by communities to reclaim and celebrate their heritage often focus on language revival. Why does this matter? In Canada, research showed that among groups where more than half could hold a conversation in their native language, youth suicide rates were low or nonexistent. In groups where that wasn’t the case, suicide rates were six times higher. Of course, a language alone doesn’t save a community from poor mental health, but it may be a sign of the cultural resilience that does. In 2012, a government inquiry in Australia found that Indigenous languages played a key role in this.Languages play such a vital role in the health and life expectancy of communities that some argue they should be recognized in the constitution. Yet, 14 years later, the constitution still only recognizes English. In Europe, tools like the Charter for Regional or Minority Languages promise better protection, though many countries—including France and Italy—have not ratified it.
All of this is happening against a backdrop of homogenization, where major languages like English, Mandarin, and Spanish dominate. According to Ethnologue, 88% of the world’s population are native speakers of just 20 languages. Linguists have noticed that migrants often become monolingual in their adopted country’s language by the third generation.
I’ve seen this firsthand. Growing up, I could only understand—not speak—the beautiful mix of standard Italian and the “dialët” from the mountains of Piacenza that my grandmother and mother used. This language was so undervalued in Italian public life that my grandmother only ever called it a dialect of Italian. In reality, it’s a variety of Emilian called Piaśintein, a descendant of vulgar Latin. In northern Italy, passing it on to children has basically stopped, so it can feel like a relic of the past. But since my grandmother passed away, weaving it into conversations with my mother is a way to keep a part of her alive.
And it’s not just her—it’s the unique time, place, and culture this language represents. There’s the fronted vowel sound ø, which can sound more Scandinavian than Italian to outsiders. There are nature words, especially those for i funz, the valley’s famous mushrooms. And so much more.
From Ubykh to Piaśintein, language documentation offers at least some hope for revival. For others—like Australia’s Walangama or Argentina’s Abipón—the little that survives may never be enough. Who can say what we’ve lost in their now-gone words for plants or animals, or in their wise sayings? Right now, activists are demanding legal and cultural recognition for thousands of endangered languages. We should listen to them before it’s too late.
Sophia Smith Galer is a journalist and author of How to Kill a Language (William Collins). To support the Guardian, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
Further reading
Rare Tongues by Lorna Gibb (Atlantic, £12.99)
Proto by Laura Spinney (William Collins, £10.99)
Through the Language Glass by Guy Deutscher (Arrow, £10.99)
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs about what happens when a language is lost covering beginner to advanced levels
BeginnerLevel Questions
1 What does it actually mean to lose a language
It means that no one speaks that language anymore The last fluent speaker has died and no one else learned it as their first language
2 How many languages are currently in danger
There are over 7000 languages spoken today and experts estimate that nearly half of them could be gone by the end of this century
3 Why should I care if a language disappears
Because languages hold unique knowledge culture and ways of thinking When one dies we lose ancient stories medicine recipes and a unique view of the world
4 What happens to the people who lose their language
They often feel a deep sense of loss and disconnection from their heritage It can affect their identity family traditions and even their mental health
5 Do animals or nature get affected when a language is lost
Yes Many indigenous languages contain detailed knowledge about local plants animals and ecosystems When the language dies that ecological wisdom is often lost forever
IntermediateLevel Questions
6 Can a dead language ever come back
Its very rare but possible Hebrew is the most famous exampleit was revived from a liturgical language to a modern spoken one However most lost languages are never revived
7 Whats the difference between a dead language and an extinct language
A dead language is no ones first language but it may still be used in writing or rituals An extinct language has no speakers at all even for special purposes
8 Does losing a language mean losing a whole culture
Not completely but its a huge blow Culture can survive through art food and traditions but the language is the key that unlocks the most detailed stories jokes and songs
9 How does a language actually die
It usually happens gradually A younger generation learns a more dominant language for school and work and stops teaching their ancestral language to their children
10 What is linguistic diversity and why does it matter
Its
